


My Favorite Argument

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: 5 Things, Conversations Are Sexy, F/M, Hera Is Always Right Except When She's Not, May the 4th Treat, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Old Married Couple, Setting Boundaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-25 04:42:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10756926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Five private conversations.





	My Favorite Argument

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irusu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irusu/gifts).



1.

Kanan's eyes opened. To his delight, Hera was still there. He'd given himself about sixty-forty odds on her staying as he'd dozed off. The partners he had fallen asleep next to before had been a mix of clingy and disinterested, the first already planning their wedding over breakfast, the latter kicking him out with his clothes in his arms before dawn. He hadn't figured Hera out yet. She liked him. She was more than happy to invite him along for her travels and into her bunk. He didn't know what she was looking for from him.

He couldn't help but remember that she wasn't interested in letting him tag along until after he revealed his powers to her. Maybe he did know what she wanted from him.

"We should talk," Hera said, her own eyes opening to meet his.

Almost a decade of hiding kept his sudden worry wiped clear from his face. "Okay, let's talk. First thing, if we're going for round two, I should get up and lock the door so your droid doesn't come barging in again."

She made that little half-smirk which he was learning meant: 'You think you're funny and you're wrong.' She gestured between them. "This doesn't change anything."

He wondered if she'd let him put his pants on before she pushed him out the door. "All right."

Hera let out a sigh. "I need to know you understand. This is my ship. I am in charge. I will set the rules. Nothing you and I do together changes that." Her tone was serious, almost formal, in sharp incongruity with the languorous way her nude body turned as she faced him, head propped on one hand.

His brain, still muzzy from his nap and the fun time that preceded it, took a few moments to parse through her words. She was not kicking him out of bed. She was not picking out names for their children. Did he need more than that?

The calm stare she fixed him with suggested he did.

"You are in charge. This is your ship. You give the orders. Got it."

She nodded, accepting his response. "As ship's captain, I need my own space. This is fun," Hera added with a smile, brushing her hand across his bare arm, "and I would love to continue, but you aren't moving into my quarters. Do you have a problem with that?"

A quick joke came to his lips, and behind it, a touch of something he wasn't expecting. He'd liked waking up next to her, but that wasn't her style. He set the emotion aside for later thought. "No problem, Captain."

"Good."

Part of him wondered what he was getting himself into. The rest of him enjoyed the bright look in her eyes as she closed the small distance between them and kissed him. Round two it was. He ought to lock the door. Instead, he pulled her closer.

2.

The first thing Kanan had to remember was not to panic. He'd worked a series of dangerous jobs well before signing on to Hera's personal crusade against the Empire. He'd seen people of every species get injured in every way. A blaster bolt to the hip wasn't the worst of it, not by any means.

Most blaster bolt injuries cauterized. The skin around the edges had that charred crisp he knew too well, and they'd have to deal with the burns later. Right now, Hera was bleeding profusely and if he couldn't staunch the wound, she was going to die. So he couldn't panic, no matter how much fear tried to claw at his throat.

Everyone he cared about died. That was why he'd stopped caring, or tried to stop, until he'd met her.

It had been going so well, too. The Empire used this out of the way moon as a depot for off-loading and redistributing supplies in this sector. The plan was to get in, grab what they could, and get out. A little extra fuel for the ship, a load of rations that would keep the two of them in tasteless meals for another month, a crate for her mysterious buddy Fulcrum, and the warm knowledge that they'd messed up an Imperial shipment. Easy.

Unless they met the one stormtrooper who wasn't asleep on the very dull job.

Kanan had managed to get Hera aboard and yell at Chopper to get them out of here. If he was lucky, the droid had set a course for somewhere with a good medical facility. Kanan dug through their own supplies, desperate for anything that would help until they reached their destination. A quick injection of painkillers helped her agony but wouldn't stop her from dying on him.

He found a box of bacta patches, one large enough to cover the wound. He placed it against her injury, not reacting as she gasped in pain from the contact. Blood oozed out around it, and he grabbed a cloth, putting on pressure to hold the patch in place and to slow the bleeding.

Hera closed her eyes, her head lolling.

"Hey," he said. She didn't respond. "Hey! Wake up!" He shifted his hold on the cloth, freeing up a hand to touch her face, tap at her chin. "Hera, do not go to sleep."

"Tired."

Shock was setting in, and he didn't have the equipment to keep her alive. "I know. Keep talking to me." He increased the pressure again. If he could stop the blood loss, the bacta could do its work. They could take the ship to the closest safe port and everything would be fine.

"Nothing to talk about." Her eyes stayed closed.

"Sure we do. We talked about this yesterday. We need a crew." A medical droid would be a perfect first choice. "Someone to carry the loot, someone to set the explosives, someone to fly the ship."

Her eyes finally cracked open, thank the Force. "No one flies my ship except me."

Kanan couldn't stop the smile. "No problem. You fly the ship, I handle the missions. Deal?"

She made a noise which sounded more like assent than pain. He didn't dare remove his hold on her as her eyes closed again.

"Hera. Hera!"

"You're very loud."

"Crew."

"I am not discussing recruitment with you right now."

"You got something better to do?" 

"Fine. We'll find a crew. Wanted: anti-Imperial agitators with no self-preservation instincts willing to work for all the propaganda they can eat." The joke came with a woozy smile. The painkillers had set in.

"When you put it that way, maybe we should rethink the benefits package." He removed the pressure and pulled the cloth away. The bacta patch held, sucking at her injured skin. She needed some time in a full-body bath to repair the damage, but she wouldn't bleed out before they arrived. 

The cargo bay floor was a mess. He hadn't even thought past getting her in here and getting her wound treated. For all he knew, Chopper was in the process of flying them into the nearest star. "I'm going to move you. This might be a little weird."

It had been a while since Kanan had tried this. He kept his lightsaber in pieces, and he didn't use his powers except at need. Hera hadn't pushed him.

He reached out with the Force, lifting her as gently as he could. Her eyes widened, then relaxed as he eased her through the ship into one of the spare cabins, setting her down on the lower bunk. As soon as she was settled, he said, "I'm going to check in with Chopper and see where he's got us headed. I want you awake when I get back. I'll bring the game table in. You can beat me at dejarik again while we're en route."

"I'd rather sleep. I'll be fine."

"If you're not awake, I'm putting Gamorrean opera on the overheads and blaring it at the loudest setting. Then I'm singing along in your ear."

"Remind me to revoke your overhead speaker privileges when I can move again." Her eyes stayed open, though, and she watched him go with a smile that wore a thousand thank yous.

3.

Kanan counted down the time until Zeb's cabin door closed.

"Can I have a word with you?" Hera asked, without any possible chance of allowing the answer to be 'no.'

"Your room or mine?"

She walked into her own cabin, and he followed, shutting the door. Kanan started first. "You don't like him."

She shook her head. "I do like him. I'm sure I'll like him even more once we get to know him better."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's not a problem."

He folded his arms and stared at her. This did not have the intended effect. "What?"

"He called you 'Boss.' Did you notice?"

"I was more focused on getting out of there. Lasan was a graveyard." Kanan held his shiver. "Honestly, I don't know how the poor guy survived."

"Luck. Whether it's good or bad, we'll see."

"Are you mad that he thought I was in charge? I can go in there right now and set him straight."

"I'd rather you didn't." She sat down on the low block that served as a work bench. "If Zeb is going to stay on and join you on raids, it'll be easier if he doesn't have any confusion whose orders to follow. I run the ship. You run the missions. He doesn't have to know where you're getting your orders. I trust you to make good decisions on the ground. If he continues to believe you're in charge, he'll trust you, too."

"You're thinking about something else."

She nodded. "I think Zeb likes you. It might be good for him to spend time talking with you. He just lost everyone he ever knew. He could use a friend who's been through that same experience."

His stomach did a small flip. Genocide was a terrible point to have in common with someone. That wasn't the only issue. "You think I should tell him."

"That has to be your choice. If you'd rather keep it a secret between us, I won't say a word."

"I'll tell him. And I won't correct his mistake." He could recognize an order, no matter how gently phrased.

"Good."

4.

Kanan was not pacing nervously outside the spare cabin. He was merely remaining in close vicinity while his Captain was alone with a wounded and dangerous bounty hunter, keeping his energy levels ready in case of emergency.

The door opened. Behind Hera, he could make out the reposing figure on the bunk. "Get some rest," she said over her shoulder. "I'll be back in a while to check on you. The door will not be locked. I promise." The door slid shut behind her as she stepped into the corridor.

"I really don't like this," Kanan said, falling into step beside her as they made their way from the crew quarters. "We should set a guard."

"Why?"

"Because we don't know what that guy will do unsupervised!" He'd tamped down his worries before. The guy might have been faking his injuries. This could be a trap. What were the odds they'd find a lone Mandalorian left for dead all the way out here? "You don't know anything about him."

"I know one thing you clearly didn't notice," she said with an amused smirk. "He's a girl."

Kanan's head snapped back, as if he could see through the walls. "Really?"

"I'm not even your species and I knew that right away."

He shrugged. "I thought he, um, she was just a scrawny kid."

"She is a scrawny kid. She's pretty young. My guess is she's too young to even have her pilot's license yet."

"What was she doing all the way out here?"

"She didn't say and I didn't ask. Her injuries aren't as bad as I feared. Most of her physical problems are from exposure and malnutrition. She looks like she hasn't eaten in days."

"This could still be a trap."

They made their way to the crew lounge. Hera went past into the galley, opening the storage cabinet and staring at the stacked supplies, not really seeing them. After a moment, she pulled out a packet of nutrient soup and flipped on the heater for some water. "It's not a trap. I can't tell you how I know, but I'm sure of it."

"That's supposed to be my line."

"She needs our help. I don't think she wants it necessarily."

They'd known each other for years, and he still couldn't read all of Hera's moods. This one was different from anything else he'd seen. He didn't sense any kind of outside influence. He'd used the mind trick enough to tell when someone else was trying the same thing. Hera wasn't being coerced.

"What's going on?"

She shrugged. "Now? Food. Later? We'll see. We have the spare cabin. We've talked about bringing on more crew. You and Zeb could use some backup."

"Adults. I don't like the idea of bringing kids along."

Hera shrugged and poured the hot water into the bowl, stirring the soup to reconstitute it. "She's not a lot younger than I was when I set out. It isn't as though I'm asking her to blow up an Imperial base tomorrow. Unless she really wants to." He'd expected the last part to be another of Hera's sarcastic jokes, but instead, she sounded thoughtful.

He'd already lost this argument. He tried again anyway. "Do you even know her name?"

"I'll ask over dinner." She put the soup and a few rations bars on a tray. "I want to find out how much she knows about thermal detonators. She had a few in her pack when we brought her aboard."

"She had what?"

Hera rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look. I removed them already. I've told her she can have them back when she's recovered."

"Or we could not give the deadly explosives back to the bounty hunter whose name you don't know."

"Your advice is being taken under consideration," she said, heading back towards the crew quarters.

He said to the back of her head, "If she kills you, I'm going to say I told you so."

Without turning around, Hera replied, "If she wants to stay, we're keeping her."

5.

Technically, they were allowed to have quarters on the base. In reality, the _Ghost_ had been Kanan's home for ten years, no matter how bare his cabin seemed to everyone else. Not like he had much reason to put art on the walls these days.

He sensed Hera approaching the ship in a fog of annoyance. He couldn't see her face any longer, but he could feel the threads of her moods from light years away. He met her in the lounge with her favorite cup. "How did it go?"

She sighed and sat by the table. If she'd taken her favorite chair, he'd have known she didn't want company. The curved bench was made for togetherness, which meant she did. He took a seat beside her and waited. Around them, the ship's systems hummed and went about their normal routines. The hatches were open, allowing in the humid, still air that hugged this thickly green moon. The fecund odors of burgeoning leaves and decaying molds were utterly different from Atollon or Lothal or anywhere else they'd briefly made their home.

"I don't know what I was expecting. It wasn't the full Council, but I swear there were more holograms in that room than I've ever seen in one place."

"That's hopeful. Get enough people together for a common cause, and you can do anything." He could tell something was wrong. He could also tell she wasn't swayed by his jovial tone. "So what happened?"

"Technically, I'm not supposed to say. You know you could have a seat on the Alliance Council. Rex has been ready to call you 'General' since they day he met you. They'd be more than happy to give you whatever rank or title you'd like."

"The only rank I hold that matters is first mate on the _Ghost_. Anything else they call me is to make themselves feel better." He settled back into the cushion, drawing her back with him. "What's wrong?"

"Do you remember when we brought Ezra aboard and finally had a full crew?"

"Sure."

"Do you remember how everyone didn't really get along? Zeb and Ezra quarreled all the time because they had to share a room. Sabine barely tolerated any of us. Chopper was, well. You know Chopper."

"I remember."

"Now picture dozens of worlds having to share a room, barely tolerating each other, and calculating how much trouble they'd be in for dropping someone out an airlock. The Alliance isn't a happy family. It's a loose group of people who trust each other slightly more than they trust the Empire. Mon Mothma's faction wants to broker a political deal. Saw Gerrera's faction wants all-out war. Senator Organa is arguing we should stay underground and keep hidden as much as we can. They are three voices out of hundreds, and no one listens to anyone else. I thought when we joined together as one Alliance, that meant we'd work together as a unified whole, not argue over who painted whose wall five years ago."

"I don't suppose you could send them all out to pick up meilooruns."

"Wouldn't that be nice? They might even come home with a whole squadron of TIE fighters." He felt the shift in her mood as she rested against him more comfortably.

"Do you have any more meetings?" She shook her head. "We should go for a stroll. I've heard the jungle is gorgeous. You could tell me about it." His rank was exactly the one he wanted, because it meant his job was to keep Hera happy. Not a bad life, even with hundreds of bickering kids to worry about instead of just three and a crabby droid.

She made a noise in her throat. "I'm not in the mood for a walk right now." He felt her turn as her face shifted towards his. He could feel the soft caress of her breath against his beard. "I was thinking maybe we could stay in tonight instead. The kids will be away for hours." The breath became pressure as she kissed his cheek. His arm wrapped around her.

Hera always did come up with great plans, he thought. He turned his face and felt her lips already curled into a smile as they found his.

**Author's Note:**

> The least surprising May the 4th gift ever!


End file.
